


The In and Out

by theskywasblue



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, M/M, office politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-08
Updated: 2010-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 10:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy tackles paperwork, and Havoc is no help at all</p>
            </blockquote>





	The In and Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [velvetina_wonka](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=velvetina_wonka).



> For the prompt Mustang/Havoc - fluffy - "How come it's always you?"

Roy was just beginning to think that if Edward Elric ever _did_ manage to find the Philosopher’s stone, get his and his brother’s bodies back, he would very likely leave the army and return to his backwater little town to marry that crazy little mechanic he seemed so fond of, and it would be a great relief. Not because Roy wanted to lose the skills of one of the most talented alchemists that had probably ever drawn breath, but because he was thoroughly sick of reading all the news reports about the Fullmetal Alchemist’s exploits and having to deal with all the paperwork created in their wake.

Currently, he had a stack nearly a half-mile high in his inbox dedicated _solely_ to young Edward’s latest brush with near death and certain fame; and he was considering lighting the entire stack on fire. If he had known the brat was going to be this much trouble...well, alright, he _had_ known, he had just hoped that the benefits would outweigh the aggravation, and that wasn’t turning out to be the case.

He was rubbing his thumb and forefinger together thoughtfully, wondering if he could combust the stack without setting off the building’s fire alarm, and whether the possibility of setting off the alarm might not be worth the risk anyhow, when the door to the office swung open and Havoc came striding in, strutting like a rooster, with a cigarette perched at the edge of his usual shit-eating grin and a colourful gift bag swinging at his side.

“Knew I’d find you here,” Havoc dropped his bag on the desk, nearly upsetting one of Roy’s stacks of papers. Roy caught it and pushed it upright before it could hit the floor, fixing Havoc with his best glare.

“Where else would I be Lieutenant?”

Havoc shrugged and ashed his cigarette on the floor. Maybe _that_ was why the cleaning staff was always complaining about the office.

“You could be out having a day off like the rest of us.”

“Ambition doesn’t take a day off Lieutenant Havoc; and neither, unfortunately, does paperwork.”

The latter, however, was rewardingly flammable.

“Yeah, yeah,” Havoc drawled, “Führer Roy Mustang in the making.”

Roy leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his temples, “When I’m Führer I’ll find slaves to do my paperwork. Or prisoners of war. Mass murderers. Surely a man would rather go to the gallows than wade through all this.”

“Here,” Havoc’s hand plunged into the shopping bag. The papers were nearly upset again and Roy put his foot on the desk to stop them. “This’ll take your mind off all that crap.”

What Roy would have liked to see come out of the bag was a box of cigars, or perhaps a bottle of Reole’s Best Brandy. What he got was...

“A teddy bear?”

It was black, with a white muzzle and paws, and bright blue jewel eyes, clearly wearing the all-too familiar military uniform. Havoc perched it on top of the stack of papers and smiled.

“Isn’t it great?”

“Great?” Now Roy was _really_ wanting that brandy.

“I know! There’s this store in the market that’s doing a whole series of all the most famous State Alchemists. Apparently they’re really popular and hard to get a hold of. They have a _teeny, tiny_ little one of the Fullmetal kid – it’s hilarious.”

“Your hero worship is utterly...nauseating Lieutenant. And this one is?”

Havoc blinked, “He doesn’t look familiar?”

Roy studied the bear more closely and experienced a sudden sinking sensation in his chest.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s little Roy!” Havoc cooed in a positively grating falsetto, making the bear do what Roy suspected was meant to be some kind of little dance. Roy was torn between the urge to vomit, and the urge to light Havoc’s hair on fire.

“Lieutenant Havoc.”

Instinct and years of military training made Havoc snap to attention at the tone of Roy’s voice. The perilous stack of papers finally lost its stability and tumbled to the floor in a cascade of rampant bureaucratic time-wasting. Roy would have been angry about the mess; however he was too much relieved to have the blatantly offensive bit of unlicensed merchandise out of his line of sight.

"Lieutenant Havoc - you are going to take that bear and get it out of this office before I turn both it and you into charcoal briquettes."

"Permission to speak freely sir?"

"Granted," Roy found himself saying before he could think otherwise - because Havoc _always_ had permission to speak freely to him. He regretted it almost instantly.

"Would you like the bear better if it was a little Jean?"

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. "No I would _not_ like it better if it was a little Jean."

"Well at least we're on the same page then. It would be kind of weird if I wanted to curl up at night with a little bear that looked like me."

The image was in Roy’s head instantly – Havoc in his military-issue pinstripe boxers, curled atop crisp, white sheets in his favourite sleeping position (right side, one knee pulled just slightly up so that he tipped ever so slightly towards his stomach, displaying that fine ass, one arm under his head) with that stupid bear tucked up under his chin.

He had obviously done far too much paperwork if he was finding that the least bit attractive.

And in an instant, Roy Mustang had one of those perfectly priceless ideas that can only occur when one is exhausted and suffering from terminal ennui.

“Havoc...give me the bear.”

Havoc actually almost pouted, “You’re not going to light it on fire are you? It cost me a lot of money.”

“The fact that you’re a sucker isn’t my fault Havoc,” Roy held out one gloved hand, “the bear. Don’t make me ask again.”

Havoc held out a moment longer before finally surrendering the stuffed animal. Roy stood as he accepted it, placing it on the edge of his desk and putting his official seal in one furred hand. When he stepped around the desk to examine his handiwork he realized that the bear didn’t have nearly the right look on its sewn face to impersonate anyone bogged down by such a bevy of paperwork, but it would have to do. As an afterthought he scribbled _Out to lunch_ on the back of an official inter-office communication and propped it up against the bear’s feet before heading for the door, trying to look for all intents and purposes like someone who hadn’t just skipped out on several weeks of paperwork with the full intent of getting drunk off his ass and bedding one of his subordinates -- although a bed wouldn’t necessarily have anything to do with what he had in mind.

Havoc was grinning ear to ear as he jogged after him. “Do you think you’re going to get away with that?”

“If they have a complaint,” Roy snorted dryly, “they can put it in my inbox.”

-End-


End file.
